Wednesday, August 3, 2011

My husband and I booked our two free personal training sessions back to back. When we arrived, the sports club couldn't find our appointments, but were kind enough to squeeze us in for an hour of high pressure sales.

To help us more efficiently we were handed two forms. The trainer had us fill in privileged information such as height, weight, age, gender, and fitness goals. Then he used the information to calculate our BMI's with what looked like a high tech PS3 controller. I was 1% over normal.

"So...Nikki, what is your fitness goal?" the trainer asked.

"I'm going to loose 1% body fat this month," I responded.

"Impossible, that will take 6-8 weeks," he replied.

"Want to bet?" I challenged.

"What are we betting?" he asked.

"The satisfaction of being right," I presented the extremely high stakes.

"Okay, but you're not gonna win. If you could lose 1% in a month...you'd be the poster child for fitness," he warned me.

Nikki

Who am I? I am the parent standing in the back of the PTA meeting pretending to care about such trivial issues. All while feeling this is a complete waste of time. Screaming inside my head, "You've got to be kidding me!" Has it really come to this? Don't bother to look around; you won't be able to figure out who I am. In fact blending in has become a survival skill that I am quite proud of. Standing in the back with my heart racing, afraid that my thoughts will somehow escape my mouth without my permission and I will be exposed. I will be exiled and everyone will think I am crazy. But from where I stand, crazy seems to be running the show these days. Speaking up is hard, voicing an opinion that you are conditioned to believe is unpopular, even harder.